


Wild West Slayer

by 88dragons



Category: The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-18
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-07-08 02:16:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19861870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/88dragons/pseuds/88dragons
Summary: I wrote this 10 years ago when I was getting over back surgery and a friend of mine has been on me to upload it.  I am rewriting some of this as I go so bear with me.





	1. Epilogue

**Author's Note:**

> HI!! I hope you enjoy this. Just a slayer in the wild west story.
> 
> Some of my OCs are based on other characters from other shows and so forth. I'll let you know which ones and when at the right time.
> 
> My slayer is loosely based on Buffy, in the smart mouthed, loopy kinda way.

The axe did just as it should. It sliced through muscle and bone with the ease of a sharp knife through a ripe apple.

Oh! An apple. That would taste good right about now.

Anyway. Axe. Slicing. Yes. The 11-inch blade entered the shoulder, just above the collarbone, and went down in a slight arc, exiting just below the rib cage. 

Hot blood, the color of new green leaves, flowed down the axe handle onto my hand, and spurted all over the front of me. 

Another shirt ruined. Vulgar feeling of blood on my skin. Another night in a long line of so many.

I love my work.

The creature fell, it’s two pieces lying separately at my feet, it’s strange, red eyes still staring at me with hatred. I kicked it to make sure it was dead, even though I knew it already was. There were very few things that could survive being cut almost in half.

There were a few. Trust me. I have seen them.

Satisfied beyond any reasonable doubt, I hefted the axe onto my shoulder, proud of not only a good night’s work, but that I was done earlier than most nights. 

Go home. Take a nice hot bath. Burn clothes with green icky blood. 

And remember to ask Reese what the hell it was I had just killed. Can never remember all the things I have fought and killed.

It was so much more simple when it had just been vampires. Vampires. So easy. No fuss. No muss. Self cleaning. Dust is much, much more painless to get out of clothing than blood, no matter what color it is.

Not caring that green blood was dripping down my shoulder and back, I made my way back the way I had come. At least I thought it was the way I had come when I had chased Mr. Big, Green, and Ugly away from the Indian Village and into the woods. Once the adrenaline wears off, I sometimes got kinda lost in unfamiliar areas. 

Blonde moment maybe?

Sounds good. We will stick with that.

My horse was where I left her. When I came out of the woods she was staring in my direction, her golden eyes meeting mine. Hell was not a nice horse. Far from it. She hated being ridden and would kick anything that got within close range of her hooves. It was a fight to get her to take me where I needed to go.

Truth be told, I can run faster than her. You know, being a slayer and all. But there were times when I just wanted to ride, and she was what I had to do so. I have to work with what I got.

She snorted at me when I approached, and for a second I thought she was not going to let me in the saddle. But she did, and after making sure my axe was secure, we were on our way. 

There was no rush now. Not like the blinding dash I had made to find the big ugly I had just taken down. I could sense nothing dangerous for miles around, my senses, as always, on high alert. So, I kept Hell at a steady pace, which I knew she liked even less than being ridden, but I wanted to enjoy the night and the quiet.

The Kansas plains were as flat as any I had ever seen. They seemed to stretch on for miles and miles with no end in sight. 

Hell came to a halt on her own, snorting, and stomping a foot. She and I may not see eye-to-eye often, but we understood one another. She was an intelligent horse, and had her ways to tell me what she thought I needed to know.

Now was one of those times.

Something evil was afoot.

I was not prone to let my mind wander, and miss the obvious, but sometimes it couldn’t be helped. Especially not now. Now that I was about to do something I hated doing, but needed to be done. Thus the second thing on my mind, the thing I was trying not to think about. See, it had been brought to my attention that I was needed elsewhere, while Abby had a trail to follow, and Reese had a promise to keep. 

That would mean we were splitting up.

It had been a long time since we had had to do that.

It could not be avoided. Something had to be done before things got out of hand.

So, Abby was going down toward the southeastern coast of Tejas, while Reese was heading back up north, to Chicago. I on the other hand was to journey into the wild, Wild West. Bad things were making their way in that direction, toward the land many were making their way to also. Settlements were few and far between, no big cities until San Francisco, so there was more opportunity for the creatures of the night to stake a claim, and gain a hold without being disturbed. 

I had business that I had been putting off for sixteen years, and it was also in that direction. Out there, in a dusty town, was a person I had never met, but had always wanted to. In that was –

OH! Ugly creature! Must slay!

It came at me from behind a tree, plowed into my right side and threw me from the saddle. I landed hard on my left shoulder, but I had no time to dwell on the pain. I immediately found myself fighting off sharp claws and many knife-like teeth. 

Seems the thing I had killed earlier had a brother. 

I have to get to my axe.

It was secured to my saddle.

I knew Hell wouldn’t run off. She did not bolt in the face of fear and sudden death. I kept her hidden and at a distance when I came upon something that needed to be slayed because I was afraid they would kill her out of spite. She may be a pain, but she was a loyal pain.

Just as this evil step-brother found out.

When her back hooves connected with its skull.

I love the sound of bones cracking in the morning. 

The thing flew off of me, landing a few feet away, and rolling a few feet more. When it came to a stop, it lay still. I didn’t trust that. Not for a second. In a second I was on my feet and had the axe in my hand. Hell snorted, this time though, it sounded more like the horse version of a scoff. I loved this horse.

The thing remained still. I was still not about to trust it. It would get up soon enough, I was sure. Probably waiting for me to turn my back. I was not about to do that. So the best thing for me to do was just go on over and cut its head off.

Sounds like a plan.

Turns out, it wasn’t a good one.

I approached it cautiously, as always. Honest!! I would pause and watch it carefully then take a few more steps and then stop again. I have done this before, you know.

Apparently, so had it.

I was still a few feet away, and what saved me from a good whuppin’ was Hell. She whinnied loudly, a clear sign of warning, and I jumped back just as the creature jumped to its feet and lashed out at me.

Missed me by that much.

I have heard it said that timing has a lot to do with the outcome of a rain dance.

Wondering about that?

So am I. I hate when things like that just pop into my head.

The beasty lunged. I swung. One of us was buzzard food. And it ain’t me. End of story.

And did I just say whuppin’?

Still trying to get a leg up on the slang.

A few moments later I was back in the saddle and Hell and I were on our way.

End of Story?

I was getting ahead of myself.

Hell! It’s just getting started.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone reading and left kudos! And thank you boogieshoes! So glad you are enjoying this fic!

Chapter Two

Connie and I traveled through the flatlands of Kansas without much incident. Oh, there were a few vamps here and there, and a few other things, but nothing of too much importance. During the day, we traveled little. Because it was hot. And while Connie can’t, I can see in the dark just fine. Besides, doesn’t make much sense to sleep at night when all the really bad things come out then, now does it?

Anywho, we practiced speakin’ while we rode. You know the language of the west? All the terms that settlers and cowboys use, so we could fit in some. A little. At all. At least in some fashion. We were going to stick out like clodhoppers as it was. 

I decided that ‘cow patties’ would be a real good curse word. Especially compared to all the others I used.

Remember: low profile!

Yeah! Right!

We hadn’t been out this far in a coon’s age. 

Okay. We have never been out this way. I am trying here. I doubt I will stick with this fitting in thing for much longer. It gets kind of annoying.

Connie and I took turns cooking. One of us is better than the other, and I am not gonna say which one. One of us is also better at catching things for us to cook. That would be me. 

Rattlesnake! Yum!!!

It really does taste like chicken.

After a significant amount of time following a trail that only a slayer can follow, running almost even with the old Santé Fe trail out west, we entered Utah territory, and then turned south. The trail the vampires had taken to get here was as clear to me as the sunlight during the day. It had been longer than I had originally believed since they had come out here, and I cursed myself for slacking.

We went through the same routine. Sleep, eat, travel, eat, sleep, and travel. Day and day out, with a little slaying here and there. Connie, by the way, is a potential, not a slayer, so she mainly stayed with the horses. She may not have my strength, but she is damn good with a crossbow.

To make a long story shorter, the town caught me by surprise. We had avoided a few other towns along our way, only stopping when we needed supplies. The nights are colder in the desert, much colder than the days. It was early morning, the sun cresting the horizon in shades of orange and purple. We made our way through a forest, new leaves bursting from the limbs around us, crested a small rise, and there it was.

And I froze.

I have faced vampires, demons from hell and I even looked into Hell itself. In four years, I have only frozen a few times, and that was at the beginning, when I was just getting the hang of this.

But I froze now. Why?

Think for a second.

I was about to ride into a town occupied and protected by my father. I was going to have to kill creatures from beyond, creatures that the people in this town, including my father, had never heard of, let alone seen, and more than likely didn’t believe even existed. They were worried about Indians and cattle ranchers, and wild animals. Not vampires. 

Connie’s horse, Guppy (don’t ask me. I don’t know), was several yards ahead of me, before she realized I wasn’t with her, and pulled on the reins to stop her horse. She looked back over her shoulder at me.

“Sigh, are you alright?” 

I nodded, even though I wasn’t. Of course, I wasn’t alright. What if this man didn’t believe me? What if he hated me? What if he ran me out of town for being a witch and a liar, and whatever else?

I drew in a deep breath to calm myself, and immediately choked on all the dust blowing around. When the fit was over, I sat up in my saddle, squared my shoulders, and kicked Hell in the flanks. I am a slayer.

I have a job to do.

And I am going to do it.

No matter what.

Getting to the town happened quicker than I would have liked, in spite of my bravado.

Here we go.

The first building you see as you are riding in is the Stage Company on the right. As you round the corner, there is a building with the sign Jerry Waak’s Everything Store hanging over the door. Everything? We will see about that, pal. 

Then there is a clothing store, followed by a hotel with another hotel across the street. Connie and I stop our horses, studying the one and only road in and out of town. I could see a sign for another hotel, telling us we were not going to have trouble finding a place to sleep, several saloons, a bath house, lumber, telegraph office, mercantile store, and several others, all to be expected. My eyes kept wandering, and I spotted what could only be the jail, located near the center of the town. My heart clenched in my chest. I wondered where he was.

“I have a mind to go into a saloon,” Connie stated beside me, drawing my attention to her. I started to agree with her, then saw the dust and dirt covering us, not to mention blood and grime. My hair felt plastered to my head under my hat, and where it trailed down back was so stiff with dirt and sand if I was to move my head too fast, I would be blinded by a mini-dust storm.

“I think we should get our rooms, and then try to make an effort to clean ourselves up,” I told her.

“There’s the livery.” She pointed down the road, past the jail, on the far end of the town. I was reluctant for many reasons, the main one being Hell. She did not play well with others, and hated being in a stable. Having no other choice, I nodded down the road, and we were on our way.

We rode nearly directly down the middle of the road. I tried to keep my eyes looking straight out in front of me, but it was impossible with all the people moving about. Down by the bank, carts were set up with fruit and vegetables from the local homesteads. Remember the apple I had mentioned earlier. I never got one.

As we came in closer to the jail, the crowds of people parted, and sitting there in front of the sheriff’s office, clad in black and a dark gray shirt, black hat tipped low on his head, peacemaker strapped to his side, reading a book, was my father. 

I knew without a doubt it was him. There was no mistaking it. My mother had told me I had his eyes, his nose, his hair color, and many mannerisms like him, so I had an idea what he looked like. 

I felt like I was no longer moving, but Hell was still at an easy gait under me, so, even though time seemed to stand still, I watched my father as we passed him. I kept my eyes on him right until he shifted, about to look up, and the spell was broken and I turned away, my eyes meeting Connie’s. She rode beside me, watching me, sympathy in her eyes, and a slight smile of comfort on her lips. I smiled back, taking another deep breath, this one not choking me.

Why did I look away, you ask? Why did I not meet my father’s eyes? Would he have known me, who I was? Would glancing up and seeing a dirty girl riding by be enough for him to know I was his daughter? Was there enough of him in me to let him know? And what would his reaction be? Out here, in the open, almost in the middle of town?

When he and I met, it would be in a condition where I could look him in the eye and talk with him, sit down and tell him about me and all he needed to know, and listen to whatever he had to say to me, without the bustle of a town around us. I’ve waited this long.

I could wait a little longer.

The livery stable was owned by a man named Yosemite, a large man with long, thick hair and a beard to boot. We led our horses to the stalls indicated, removed their saddles and our gear, paid him a month in advance and then another, and then made our way back outside. Yosemite promised they would be well fed and cared for, available anytime we needed them. Thanking him, we looked around, and as luck would have it, found a hotel across the street and up a ways from the stables. I did not want to pass by the jail again, not right now at least, and Connie picked up on my silent wish, so without saying a word, we both crossed the street and entered the Gem Hotel.

**Author's Note:**

> I have to have a face to go with my writing and a voice. It helps me write better. So I pick actors/actresses that match what I have in my head of my character. My slayer in this fic is Teresa Palmer.
> 
> Forgive me for any misspells.


End file.
